The Mark Has Been Made
by Queen's Chalice
Summary: 31 October 1981: What if Sirius Black had made a different decision on that fateful night in Godric's Hollow? Part of the 'Saving Sirius' series. One-shot. AU Marauders Era/Pre-Hogwarts.


_Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership over the universe of Harry Potter or the characters within it. This is a work of fanfiction and I am making no profit from it._

 _About this story: This is part of the 'Saving Sirius' series, a collection of otherwise unrelated one-shots in which each of the stories explores a different 'what if?' in the life of Sirius Black. They each begin established in canon, but diverge into an alternate universe that is kinder to Sirius' fate. These stories are intentionally left somewhat open-ended, as the purpose of each piece is to serve as a jumping-off point for either future stories, or simply for the imagination of the reader._

xXx

The Mark Has Been Made

 _31 October 1981_

Something was wrong – very, very wrong – and Sirius could feel it down to the marrow of his bones. Halloween had never given him the eerie chill that it seemed to give Muggles (after all, the true cross-quarter day of Samhain wasn't for another week yet), but tonight, he felt uneasy and unsettled, a sensation that was only escalating as the evening wore on.

Peter hadn't answered any of his owls all day, and his Floo was blocked off to him. When Sirius rode over to the other man's flat, not a soul was in sight, and it was tidy in that empty, abandoned way in which one leaves their home when they've gone on a long trip. He was tempted to contact Remus, though he still wasn't sure if the werewolf could be trusted, but opted instead to ride straight to Godric's Hollow, if for no other reason than to assuage his fears that some sort of harm had befallen the little family that he loved most in the world.

His fears were not assuaged.

Though the Muggles seemed to have not yet noticed, Sirius could see a tall column of smoke protruding into the sky, and he turned his motorcycle toward the wreckage at its base. Toward James' house. Panic sliced through him like a sword to the gut as he considered the implications of what he was witnessing. The Fidelius Charm must have been breached, and the only way for that to have happened was for the Secret Keeper to have willingly revealed the location to someone who would use it to the detriment of the Potter family.

Peter must have told. It was the only explanation. But why?

They had all decided that Peter was the safest, smartest choice for Secret Keeper. Sirius was too obvious, and Peter was blindly loyal to their friendship – always had been. Why would he betray James and Lily to the Dark side? What could have possibly convinced him to give away their location to a madman who would see them dead?

 _Dead._

Cold terror joined the panic that was making a home in his abdomen, and he rolled on the throttle of his bike, pushing the 1200cc engine to its limits as he urged it to travel faster. His heart dropped into his stomach as he approached the house, taking in its state of utter destruction. The roof had been ripped off on one side, and the walls on the second story were torn apart, exposing the plumbing to the night sky like the skeleton of a decimated carcass. The master bedroom was gone entirely, with the exception of the floor, which was scattered with debris that consisted of the remains of his best friend's belongings. Flames quietly licked at the sections of drywall that still stood like broken teeth, rising up from the ashes of what was left behind.

"No no no no…" Sirius repeated, murmuring to himself in rising apprehension. The wheels of his motorcycle touched down onto the ground in front of the house, and he braked hard, cutting the engine and dropping the kickstand in one movement, before sprinting toward the front door.

He bounded up the porch stairs, pushed open the door that was precariously hanging on its hinges, and burst into the house, only to be confronted with the crumpled form of James Potter, laying prone on the hallway floor.

"James! Oh my god, no, James, please be okay," he pleaded, sinking to his knees next to his unmoving friend, and rolled him onto his back. Lifeless eyes stared back up at him, and Sirius let out a loud sob, clutching his friend's body to his chest in desperation. "No, you can't be dead," he gasped, rocking back and forth. "Don't be dead, just… wake up! Please!"

Time lost all meaning as he sat there in the hallway of the Potters' home, arms wrapped tightly around his dead best friend, bartering with the gods to bring James back to him. He needed him. Lily and Harry needed him.

 _Lily and Harry…_

Sirius came back to himself abruptly. Where were they? He didn't know if he could handle it if the same fate had befallen James' beautiful wife and son, but if there was even a chance that they might still be there, might still be alive, he had to do something. He had to find them.

Forcing himself to breathe, his heart rate calmed now that he had a purpose. He released James' body, gently laying him back down on the floor, and he closed his friend's eyes before standing and drawing his wand. His senses sharpened as he let the horror fall away, and the night was silent with the exception of the soft crackling of the flames that had yet to extinguish themselves, and a lone cricket chirping somewhere in the darkness outside.

What was it Moody always said? _Constant vigilance_. So far he'd done a poor job of practicing it, and he mentally slapped himself for his carelessness.

" _Homenem Revelio_ ," he whispered. The spell pinged back, indicating that there was still somebody upstairs, but he didn't allow himself any sense of relief at this revelation. For all he knew, it was a Death Eater laying in wait for him, and he proceeded toward the staircase with caution. Easing himself up the stairs slowly, he paused every few seconds to listen. Finally reaching the top, his ears were met with the sound of a baby's quiet cry, and he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd be holding.

Senses still on high alert, he moved a bit more quickly toward the nursery, following the sound. Reaching the doorway, a low, mournful keen escaped his lips as he laid eyes on Lily – sweet, wonderful Lily – sprawled out on the floor in front of the crib, just as silent and stationary as her husband had been downstairs. He swallowed back the sobs that threatened to rise in his throat again, and stepped up to the side of the crib.

Harry's cries subsided as he stared up into his godfather's face. There was now a funny little lightning-shaped mark marring the soft skin of his forehead – how odd – but he appeared to be otherwise unharmed. Sirius scooped the baby up into his arms, pressing him into his chest as he allowed the faintest amount of relief to wash over him. Harry was okay. James and Lily were gone, but Harry had been spared. It didn't make sense, but he was too grateful at discovering his baby godson, still alive, to let the details bother him just now. He hugged the child close for a long moment, until the crash of a falling beam somewhere nearby reminded him that the structure of the house was unstable, and thus not the safest place to be at the moment.

He sprang into action, grabbing a knapsack and beginning to cram into it whatever he could find in the room that was salvageable. In went blankets, clothes, toys, and, as his eyes fell onto a small, leather-bound book, a photo album of the family that had been taken away from them both far too soon. Then, kneeling down on the floor next to Lily, he kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them to her face as warm, silent tears streaked down his cheeks.

"Goodbye, Lily. You were better than all of us. I love you," he said softly, gently closing her eyes as well. Carefully standing, he made his way out of the room and back down the stairs, knapsack slung over one shoulder, and Harry tucked carefully into the crook of his arm. He allowed himself one last look at James, who lay so peacefully in the hallway that he could have simply been asleep, before exiting the house.

Pausing on the front porch, he took a moment to acknowledge that nothing would ever be the same again. A part of him had just died in that house along with James and Lily, and his life would be forever different because of it. But, he conceded, looking down at the precious bundle in his arms, at least it wouldn't be meaningless. He had promised his friends that he would look after their son in the event that they couldn't, and while he'd never counted on ever actually having to follow through with it, he had no intention of going back on his word now.

Standing there on the porch though, he was at a loss as to what he should do next. He supposed he should notify somebody… But who? Remus? Maybe. Dumbledore? Probably. And was it really a good idea for him to be lingering on the front porch like a sitting duck, should You-Know-Who or one of his followers return to finish the job? Definitely not.

Mind made up, he stepped down into the yard and strode over to his motorcycle. He would take Harry home, reinforce the wards on his flat, and figure the rest out from there. Setting the knapsack on the seat of the bike, he dug around in it until he produced the sling that Lily used to hold her son, hands-free, to her body. It took a few minutes, but he finally managed to struggle his way into the harness, and he had just settled Harry into it as well when he became aware of someone approaching.

He swung around, wand at the ready, before realizing that it was Hagrid. His eyes narrowed and he said, "Oy! Go ahead and stop there." The half-giant complied. "What color was Molly's hair at the last meeting, and why?"

"Purple," Hagrid responded. "Those ruddy twins o' hers accidently charmed it that way, an' she left the house too quick to notice. An' ahh… What did I catch yeh lot doin' the night before graduation?"

"Drinking the finest elven wine and skinny dipping in the black lake," Sirius smirked, lowering his wand. "Thanks for not turning us in."

"Don' mention it," Hagrid said gruffly. "Now then," his gazed flickered to the house, still smoking in the night, "is it true? They're gone?"

His fist involuntarily clenching on the strap of the knapsack he held, Sirius grit out painfully, "Yeah. James and Lily, they're… dead."

"An' You-Know-Who? He's gone too?"

Sirius looked at him sharply. "He's not here, if that's what you mean."

"No," Hagrid shook his head, "I mean _gone_. That's what Professor Dumbledore said."

"And how would Dumbledore know that?" he asked. Hadn't this all just barely happened? Where was the old man anyway, if he knew so damned much about what was going on here?

"'Dunno. That's just what he told me when…" Hagrid trailed off suddenly.

"When _what_ exactly?" Sirius asked suspiciously. As if the night weren't already bad enough, now the few people he still trusted had yet _more_ secrets?

Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "When he… uhh… when he ordered me to bring the tyke to 'im in Little Whinging."

"What?" spat Sirius. 'Little Whinging' sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place the reason for it. "Why would you take Harry to… _oh no_ , I am not letting you take _my_ godson to _those_ awful people," he swore, realization dawning on him. Little Whinging was where Lily's dreadful Muggle sister lived with her equally dreadful Muggle husband. They _hated_ the Potters. What on Earth was Dumbledore thinking, wanting to take Harry to them?

Shuffling awkwardly, Hagrid started down at his feet, clearly unsure what to do, and Sirius sympathized. Hagrid was a simple man; as a rule, he avoided conflict and followed directions, and most of those directions came from Dumbledore, their trusted and beloved leader. It wasn't in Hagrid's nature to defy his orders, and yet… If Sirius was the boy's godfather, what right did anyone have to separate the two of them?

"Look," said Sirius with a sigh, raking his hair back out of his face, "I appreciate the difficulty of the position that you're in, I really do. I'm sure Dumbledore has his reasons – _however stupid they may be_ —" that part was muttered, "but I'm not letting this kid out of my sight. He is my responsibility, and Dumbledore is just going to have to understand that." It surprised him to realize just how much he meant those words. Sirius had never been known for his sense of prudence or accountability, but over the course of the last hour, his priorities had shifted irrevocably. Harry was all he had left of James, and he wasn't about to let him go just because some kooky old wizard said so.

Hagrid slowly nodded and then pulled a scrap of parchment and a quill from somewhere within his heavy coat. He scribbled out a short note, then also pulled a small owl – of all bloody things! – from yet another hidden pocket. "I understand, Black. I won' try to force it, but I've got ter at least let Professor Dumbledore know what's happenin' here." Sirius nodded once, and Hagrid sent the bird soaring into the sky with the note.

Thoughts whirled through Sirius' mind at breakneck speed. Dumbledore was sure to turn up soon to try to coerce him into giving up the child. He needed backup, someone on his side. While he still a bit leery of Remus, he decided that his guilt would be immediately evident upon seeing the destruction of the house in Godric's Hollow, had he any part in the betrayal on his friends. And if he wasn't involved, he would be a valuable ally indeed. Remus was the levelheaded one of their group; he was bookish and rational, at least when it wasn't his time of the month, and authority figures had always liked him. He shot off a quick Patronus to his old friend, and turned back to Hagrid.

"I guess now we wait," he said simply, and he lifted his wand to begin recasting wards around the property. If they were going to be sitting ducks, they might as well be sitting ducks behind a layer of protective magic.

They didn't have to wait long before Remus turned up. A small 'pop' of Apparition sounded, and suddenly he stood there, taking in the sight of his friends' destroyed home. The look of raw anguish on his face told Sirius everything he needed to know, and he swallowed the lump of regret he felt at ever doubting the man. This was _Remus Lupin_ ; through thick and thin, they'd always had one another's backs.

Turning on Sirius, Remus stalked up to him, shoving his wand in his face. "Tell me you didn't do this!" he demanded harshly. "Tell me you didn't betray them!"

"I didn't, Remus," said Sirius hoarsely. "I _couldn't_. You _know_ I couldn't. I'd have died first, before letting them come to harm."

"Then _how_? It _had_ to be you. You were their Secret Keeper," insisted Remus in confusion.

Sirius shook his head. "No, it was too obvious. Anyone could guess that they'd pick me. Peter and I switched at the last minute. It's my fault, I insisted, thought it would be safer, and look where that got us—"

"Peter?" Remus sputtered incredulously. " _Peter_ was the Secret Keeper? Then _he_ betrayed them, but why?"

"Why, indeed?" said Dumbledore. He had arrived unnoticed, and was striding toward them, Minerva McGonagall trailing in his wake. A very distressed expression adorned her normally stern-looking features.

"I don't know," said Sirius sadly, in response to both Remus and Dumbledore.

"I see." Dumbledore eyed him speculatively. "Would you be willing to submit to questioning under Veritaserum to prove your innocence?" he asked, producing a small vial from his pocket.

"Absolutely," declared Sirius, his back straightening proudly. He snatched up the vial, and placed several drops of the clear liquid on his tongue before tossing it back to Dumbledore. Clearing his throat, he said, "Peter was the Secret Keeper for James and Lily Potter, not me. I did not, _would_ not, betray the Potters to the Death Eaters. I would never turn my back on my friends like that."

Dumbledore just nodded, his gaze slipping down to the sleeping baby who was curled against Sirius' chest in his sling. "It appears as if young Harry has been well-cared for."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, wrapping an arm around the child protectively. "He has. He _is_ , after all, my godson." His voice had taken on a steely edge, as if daring the old man to try to take the baby from him. "It falls to me to look after him in the absence of his parents, and under Wizarding law, neither you, nor Lily's wretched sister, have any legal claim over him."

With a horrified gasp, Remus turned to Dumbledore. "Lily's sister?" he repeated. "Don't tell me that woman is trying to take Harry! What would she want with him? She's a Muggle and she hates Lily."

"I tried to tell him it was a bad idea," added McGonagall helpfully. "And unnecessary, as the child already has an established guardian." That was certainly interesting. Sirius hadn't expected her to be on his side as well.

Dumbledore looked at each one of his companions in turn. Sirius, Remus, and McGonagall all stared back at him expectantly. Hagrid looked down at rock on the ground, as if it were doing something fascinating, refusing to make eye contact with the headmaster.

"Don't you think it would be safer for him, _better_ for him, to grow up away from the spotlight that will surely be cast upon him? He will be famous for his defeat of Lord Voldemort, and he is still but only a baby," Dumbledore implored.

"No, not really," said Sirius plainly. "I think it will be better for him to grow up with someone who loves him, and can protect him with magic if need be, rather than with Muggles who hate him. And if the fame proves to be too much, I can always take him abroad, where neither of our names are known."

"But have you considered that the protective magic that Lily invoked when she sacrificed herself for her son is very old and powerful indeed? I believe that by residing with her blood relative, that magic will continue to protect young Harry," insisted Dumbledore.

This was starting to get irritating. Why was Dumbledore so determined to give Harry to the Dursleys? Furthermore, how did he have such intimate knowledge of the evening's events when he had only just arrived? He seemed to know a lot more than he was letting on, and it was making Sirius feel suspicious, though of what, he wasn't yet sure. "That may or may not be true, Professor, but I am more than confident in my abilities as a wizard to provide the same level of magical protection, if not better, over my godson."

"He _is_ one of the most skilled and accomplished students I've ever seen go through Hogwarts," McGonagall murmured in agreement. "That is, when he wasn't looking for trouble."

Nodding along, Dumbledore said, "Ah yes, quite the mischievous young man you always were, Mr. Black. And now that you're finally coming into your own, it seems at odds that you would want to shoulder the rather heavy burden of raising a child. Wouldn't you rather spend these years sowing your wild oats, as it were, instead of changing nappies?"

At this, Remus shot Sirius a significant look. It seemed that he found the old man's continued objections to be just as baffling. Shrugging, Sirius responded, "If James could do it, so can I." He squared his shoulders, staring Dumbledore straight in the eye. "I am Harry's legal guardian, I am fit to look after him, and I have no intention of relinquishing this child to Lily's sister, you, or anyone else," he said with an air of finality.

Still unwilling to totally let it go, Dumbledore pressed, "Yes, but all on your own?"

This time, Remus spoke up. "He's not on his own." Sirius glanced at him gratefully. One of Remus' best qualities was his ability to let bygones be bygones, and any tension between them in recent months was instantly forgotten in the wake of this tragedy. Now, more than ever, it was of utmost importance for them to stand together in solidarity, and Sirius was relieved to find that Remus had every intention of doing so.

Dumbledore finally seemed to accept defeat. "Very well," he said. "Let me know if I can be of any assistance to you."

"I will, thank you," said Sirius with a curt nod. "But for now, I'm just going to take little Harry here home. It's late." Turning to his friend, he continued, "Remus, you're welcome to come along for a nightcap. I think we have an awful lot to discuss."

Remus gave a nod of acceptance.

Sirius walked back over to his motorcycle, stowing Harry's knapsack in one of the saddlebags before mounting the bike. Remus climbed on behind him, and he was about to kick off when McGonagall said:

"You really do have a nice motorcycle, Mr. Black."

Glancing at her in surprise, he said, "Thanks. She's a 1964 Harley-Davidson FLH Duo-Glide. Restored her myself." Then, despite all of the horror and misery of the evening, he was unable to resist cracking the tiniest of smirks and adding, "You should let me take you for a ride sometime, Minerva. Let your hair down. You just might enjoy it." He winked, and she scowled back at him in disapproval, though the faintest tinge of a blush colored her cheeks as the motorcycle revved to life and disappeared into the night.

xXx

 _Author's note: In canon, Sirius' motorcycle is described as being quite large – big enough for Hagrid to ride it, or for Sirius to comfortably ride with James as a passenger – and it wasn't easy trying to decide on the make and model. I had originally imagined Sirius on a European bike, perhaps a Triumph or a Royal Enfield, but as very few companies were making larger motorcycles prior to 1980, the options were considerably limited. The '64 Harley I chose for this story was selected for a number of reasons, but most specifically because of its size, paired with the fact that an older model such as this was mechanically straightforward enough that a pureblood wizard like Sirius could easily learn to work on it, should he be so inclined._


End file.
